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INBETWEEN written by SHELAYNE Omar finished dressing and walked into the living room where he saw Libby looking out the window to the street below. The pale light lingering from sunset came through the window to play on her features. She was quite lovely, he thought. He sighed to himself as he thought how nice it would be to be mortal, to live just one lifetime with someone he could love. He crossed over to her. "Ready?" he asked. She looked at him, noticing that he had exchanged black jeans for black dockers, a blue dress shirt and black suit jacket. She smiled at him. "Ready." Omar escorted her out of his apartment. As they stepped outside he paused. "I made us a reservation at Marrakesh. I hope you like food from the far east." "I don't know that I've really tried it before." "Well, then you're in for a treat." Omar looked at the sky. "It's a lovely evening. Would you mind if we walked there? It's not far." "That would be great." They walked down the street together, his hand at the small of her back, lightly guiding her. They walked, each absorbed in their own thoughts, comfortable in the silence of the other. Finally, Libby broke the spell. "You said you were in an actor's body." "Um-hm." "Does that mean you do his auditions for him?" "If it comes up, then yes, I will have to. I've only been in this body for a couple of weeks though and it seems that he just finished filming a movie, so I should be safe for a while longer." "Oh." Libby was silent. "Enough questions about me for right now. What about you?" "What about me?" she asked. "How long have you been a journalist?" "Oh, for quite some time now." Omar waited for her to go on but seeing she wasn't volunteering any more information, pressed her. "Is that it?" Libby frowned. "What do you mean?" "Aren't you going to tell me anything about yourself?" She smiled. "This interview is about you, remember?" He looked back at her. "We're not interviewing right now." Libby sighed. "All right, what do you want to know?" "Anything, everything, something personal." "Like?" Omar gave her a frustrated look. "All right, like, why is an attractive woman like you single? And don't tell me it's because you haven't found Mr. Right." "Boy, you get straight to the point, don't you?" Libby grinned and continued. "Would you settle for it's being because I'm too busy with my career?" "Ah, nope, don't buy it." She sighed. "Okay, you want to get personal." Libby thought for a moment. "I think it's because I tend to scare men away from me." "Oh, please..." "No, Omar, I'm serious. I don't think men are comfortable around a woman who is sure of herself and of her career. I'm not one of those women who fawn all over a man, nor do I need protection. I've been on my own for a long time and I can take care of myself." Omar was thoughtful. "So your air of confidence keeps you single." "My what?" "I noticed it when you first walked in. I thought to myself, 'here's a woman who knows what she wants and knows how to get it'." Libby stopped in her tracks. "I'm not sure if that's a compliment or a complaint." Omar stepped up to her. "It's a compliment." He kissed her lightly on the lips. "Now continue" he said as he grabbed her hand and continued walking down the street. "Continue with what?" "We're talking about you, remember? So, next question is, have you ever been in a relationship?" Libby grimaced. "Are you sure you want to hear about it if I have?" Now it was Omar's turn to grimace. "Yes. I want to know what kind of competition I'm up against." Libby laughed. "There's no competition. It's been a long time since I've had a boyfriend." "But you did have a boyfriend at least once in your life." "Yes I've had a few, but it's been almost four years since the last one." How long were you together?" "For about six months." "Did he live with you or you with him?" "He lived with me." Libby noticed that Omar was gripping her hand a little bit tighter. "Where did you meet him?" "Actually, we met in college and became good friends. Then we went our separate ways and were reacquainted with each other when we were hired on at the paper. We started dating, one thing led to another and he moved in with me." "What was he like? Was he a good lover?" Omar's grip tightened further. "I don't know if I should tell you that. It seems to be upsetting you." She looked pointedly at his hand. Omar realized he was gripping her hand too tight and released the pressure. "Sorry" he grinned. He brought her hand up to his lips, gently kissing the back of her hand, then laced his fingers through hers. Libby continued. "He had a great sense of humour and yes, he was very....knowledgeable... on how to please a woman. Things went fine until my career began to take off and his didn't." "I take it he didn't like the woman of the house earning more than he did." "More or less." Omar was quite for a moment. Then he looked at her. "Did you love him?" Libby smiled back. "Yes but not in the way you think. I loved him like a sister but was never 'in love' with him, know what I mean? When I looked into his eyes, I couldn't see....well, it's hard to explain...but I couldn't...." "....see your soul-mate?" Omar finished for her. "Yes, that's exactly it." "So you're looking for your soul-mate." Libby turned her face to him. "Isn't everybody?" They walked on in silence, finally reaching the restaurant. They walked in and Libby immediately fell in love with the atmosphere. It was like walking into another world. Antique brass lamps hung from the ceiling, throwing a soft yellow light on everything. Wall-hangings with bright silk tassels covered the walls, along with smaller wall-lamps. Thick, multi-coloured carpets where on the floor everywhere, overlapping each other, underneath cushions of all shapes and sizes and knee-high tables. There were no regular-size tables and chairs to be seen. People were sitting on the cushions, or lounging against them on the floor while eating with their hands. Music came from somewhere, sitars and some reed-type instruments, Libby guessed. She took this all in as the host guided them to their table. Omar looked at Libby and cleared his throat. "I'm sorry about this." "About what? I love this place!" "I didn't consider the fact that you are wearing a mini-skirt and we have to get down on the floor to eat." Libby smiled. "Don't worry about it. I can still be ladylike and sit on the floor." And with that, she proceeded to arrange herself on a large dark-blue cushion. Omar smiled, joining her. Suddenly, two scantily clad belly-dancers made their way over towards them. Libby watched them as they danced and then glanced at Omar. He was watching them with delight. Men, she sighed. "I can see why you like this place so much" Libby said dryly. Omar looked at her. "What? Oh, you mean the dancers." His eyes gleamed. "Are you jealous?" "Of course not" she replied, a little too quickly, thought Omar. "I mean, it's not like this is a date" Libby said. "Isn't it?" and Omar leaned towards her. Libby turned her face away. "Omar, not here in the restaurant!" His fingers brought her face back to him roughly. "Are you ashamed of me?" he said. "Of course not" replied Libby. "Then don't turn away from me" and he kissed her soundly on the lips. When they separated, Libby busied herself with her menu, hoping no one had seen them kiss. I'm not ashamed of him, she thought to herself, just not used to being so forward in public. She covertly glanced at him over the top of his menu. He was looking down at his menu, a smile playing about his sensuous lips. A small sigh escaped her as she watched him and suddenly he looked up into her eyes. They stayed locked on each other, trying to see to the bottom of the other's soul, shutting away the sounds from around them as they listened to each other's unspoken desires. A waiter broke their silence by coming up to their table. "Ah Mr. Schön, so good to see you again. And with such a beautiful lady-friend." Omar looked up at the waiter. "Rasheed, pleasure to be back. May I introduce you to Libby Heath." "Welcome to our humble establishment Ms. Heath" Rasheed said with a warm smile. "I want you to take as good a care of her as you would me." "Your wish is my command. Are you ready to order?" Omar ordered for the both of them, Libby trusting his judgement to what she would like. After Rasheed left the table, Libby turned to Omar. "So are you ready to tell me of another memory?" "But didn't you leave your note pad and things back at my place?" "Yes, but I never travel without my tape-recorder." Libby pulled her micro-cassette recorder out of her purse, pressed record and set it on the table. Omar sighed. "Always the journalist" he grinned. "All right, another memory. I'll try not to make it a gory one, in light of the fact we're about to eat dinner." Libby laughed. "It doesn't matter, I'm not squeamish in the least." "Another memory...." Chapter 6 "A FLOWER OF CHIVALRY" written by ANDALYN In my ongoing efforts to make up for the atrocities I had committed in other lives, at one point I chose to experience the virtues of chivalry. With that in mind, I traveled to France in the early 14th Century. After some searching I found the ideal household where I could seek out my new host. The Chateau de St. Martin, occupying a beautiful area in the South of France. It was a large household, with many knights out on the tilting field clearly training for an upcoming tournament. I watched their auras, looking for the one that appealed to me the most. Many of the men were little more than brutes, wearing their armor or surcoats like cavemen wore the pelts of the animals they'd killed. One among them stood out like a ray of sunshine piercing dense fog. He was a younger man, strong and determined and flawless in his battlefield courtesies. He even had the physical appearance I had come to prefer, slender and strong, with long curling black hair and a close trimmed beard and mustache. His eyes were the blue of Normandy. He would suit me well. I had to wait until the knight completed his practice for the day. To take over a host in front of those who knew him well would be more than foolish. The difference would be remarked upon instantly. In those superstitious times, the last thing I needed was to have my new host body burned at the stake for possession or witchcraft. Not until my new host had shed his armor, given himself a thorough washing up, and dressed himself in clean clothing did he abandon his companions to seek a little solitude in the Chateau's extensive gardens. The moment he was alone, I seized the opportunity to occupy him. Sir Antoine paced the dirt pathways that wound among the beds of herbs and vegetable plots in this part of the garden. He was still too close to the kitchen and the buttery. He had to find somewhere no one would think to look for him. The evening breeze brought him the scent of roses. He smiled. Neither Sir Yves nor Sir Jean-Paul would believe he might take refuge among the flowers like some scatterbrained serving wench. I was content to remain passive within Sir Antoine until I could better learn the nature of his anxiety. His mind turned away from the cause of it again and again, so completely that I couldn't catch so much as a hint. The rose arbor with its heady floral scent seemed to soothe him. His world rarely held such a delicate, sweet odor. The fragrances of his world were sweating horses, the rusting stink of chain-mail worn too long in the hot sun, and the knights' hall where the wine and ale ran like water. With a nervous glance around him, Sir Antoine ducked through the wooden lattice arch twined with roses that made the arbor's entrance. Now there came upon Sir Antoine another thought charged with intense emotion of a different sort. A woman little more than a girl, with hair so fine and so pale a gold it might well have been silver. She wore her gowns modestly, kept her eyes down and her voice soft, yet that made it all the worse. Whenever Sir Antoine chanced to catch the Lady Michelle's eyes on him, that flash of green stopped his heart and stole his breath. She was too lovely, too remote, far beyond the dreams of a new-made knight who had yet to win treasure and fame great enough to seek a wife. Sir Antoine wandered among the hedges and rose bushes, his mind firmly fixed on the image of the woman he so clearly adored. That shielded him from the darkness waiting to flood his mind. I was about to take a more active role in learning what my new host feared when he turned the corner of another hedge and drew his breath in sharply. There, seated on a marble bench, was a girl of perhaps sixteen. She was fair, her skin milky with a hint of peach and rose. Her fair hair was bound up in two braids coiled over her ears and held in little openwork baskets of gold wire. These hung from a gold circlet. She wore an undergown of mild green, and over that a ladies' long surcoat of deep green. Without even seeing her face I was enchanted. This Lady Michelle might have been the spirit of the rose garden personified. At the sound of Sir Antoine's gasp, she turned. While quickly averting her eyes, her lips curved in a sweet smile. "Pardonnez-moi, ma demoiselle," Sir Antoine said. "I did not mean to intrude." "Your presence is no intrusion, mon chevalier. Do come and join me." Poor Sir Antoine's heart thundered in his chest like a stallion at full gallop. He sat beside her, scarcely daring to breathe. "Are you well, mon chevalier?" Lady Michelle asked. "You seem a little pale." "Well enough, ma demoiselle. I thank you for your concern." The silence stretched between them. His shyness and her strict adherence to propriety were going to ruin any hopes either had of making the most of this moment. I decided to take a hand. "Ma demoiselle," I said through Sir Antoine. "Would you be so kind as to give me your thoughts on a matter that troubles me greatly?" Lady Michelle met my gaze directly. Her eyes were the pale green of peridots, a jewel too often neglected. "But of course. I would be more than happy to offer whatever help I may." Sir Antoine fought me, resisting the sleep of the soul that came on every host I occupied. He did not want to speak of the matter clouding his mind with fear and grief. I'd have to learn his secret a harder way. "I do not wish to insult a lady of your delicacy with such a matter. And yet, I have nowhere else to turn." Lady Michelle laid her small, fine-boned hand on mine. "Ah. I think, mon chevalier, I know the cause of your concern. Have you yet accepted Sir Etienne's challenge?" I hesitated, not knowing how best to reply. Lady Michelle took that as a yes. She patted my hand. "Men do insist upon beating their chests and roaring out their importance." She sighed. "He's an old man, mon chevalier. You will defeat him easily." "Sir Etienne cannot be more than five years my senior." That was nothing more than a guess. I had to know more, and only Lady Michelle could tell me. She laughed, a silvery tinkling that suited the garden's heady floral scent. "You are too kind, mon chevalier. Sir Etienne faces his thirtieth winter." She put her head to one side, smiling. "While you are eighteen summers old, a man in the full vigor of his youth and powers." Sir Antoine idolized this lady with all the frustrated ardor of a proper knight, yet he failed to see that beneath her proper, maidenly appearance lay a mind as sharp and observant as any. Sir Antoine also had no idea Lady Michelle bore an affection for him as well. "What am I to do, ma demoiselle? Honor demands I accept the challenge. Yet I greatly fear the outcome if I do." That was a safe enough guess, given the tenor of Sir Antoine's anxiety. Lady Michelle nodded, her pretty features furrowed with a frown of concentration. "Vraiment. It is difficult. To best him would win you great honor, confirming your worthiness as a knight." I nodded. "And yet, ma demoiselle, the cost. . . ." Her full pink lips pressed together into a thin line. "Mais oui, the cost. This may be Sir Etienne's final challenge. He could take a wound that will leave him crippled, perhaps dying. A sad thing for his wife and daughters." "Very sad." Lady Michelle again raised those lovely green eyes to meet my gaze. "Were you to be wounded, I would feel that wound as well." She clasped her delicate hands to her bosom, looking away. "Ma demoiselle." I moved to go down on one knee before her. "That you should hold me in such high regard is surely more than I deserve." "Non." She looked down at the folds of her green gown. One milky hand reached out, hesitated, then touched one of the black curls spilling down over my collar. "You are as grand a man as any maiden could wish for." I took her hand between mine, holding it as lightly as I would hold a newborn kitten. "Ma demoiselle. You do me greater honor than any I have known before." She looked me in the eye again. The shy maiden gave way to the intelligent woman. "Then you will understand when I tell you the only answer to your difficulty may be the appearance of dishonor." "Pardonnez-moi, ma demoiselle. I do not understand your meaning." "If you do not accept Sir Etienne's challenge, you will be branded a coward, oui?" "Mais oui. I could be stripped of my knighthood." "And yet, if you accept, you face the unhappy prospect of wounding or even killing Sir Etienne. What good could come of that?" "None at all." "Non." A look of grave indecision passed over Lady Michelle's face like a cloud veiling the sun. "Shall I tell you what I know of Sir Etienne? Shall I tell you, mon chevalier, how you may save both your honor and his?" "Sil vous plait, ma demoiselle. I should like nothing better!" Lady Michelle leaned forward. As I tilted my head to listen, by accident her lips brushed my ear. Sir Antoine had already stirred up the longing in his blood by dwelling on the idea of Lady Michelle. Now the reality of her was having an even stronger effect. Sir Antoine's body was under my control, but the desire Lady Michelle roused in him was its own master. "Then hear me, mon chevalier. On colder mornings Sir Etienne limps, favoring his right leg. Some weakness of the bones has struck him. It may be that in a year's time he will not walk at all." "Mon Dieu! The horror of it!" "Exactement. You will accept the challenge. When you face Sir Etienne, you will keep to his left side. Defend yourself as best you can, for while he is an old lion, he still has sharp teeth." "And then?" When you see him begin to tire, to stagger under the weight of his armor, wait for a moment when he must shift his weight to the right. The blow he hopes to land will be weaker than he intends. Lean into it, let him strike you, then fall." I stared at Lady Michelle, speechless with surprise and admiration. Here was a master strategist, a woman who could rule empires and lead armies into battle. What a pity her future held only a marriage of convenience and the prospect of dying in childbirth. Such a waste. Perhaps, if I solved the problem of Sir Etienne, I might take a hand in uniting these lovers as well. I turned my mind back to the matter at hand. How fortunate for everyone involved I had chosen Sir Antoine as my host. From what little I knew of him so far, he would not have had the guile nor the subtlety to take full advantage of Lady Michelle's plan. I, who had lived too long and seen too much needless bloodshed, would be only too happy to carry out her most excellent commands. I bowed my head. "You are as wise as you are beautiful, mademoiselle. I shall do as you say." "Tres bien." Lady Michelle sat back. One slim hand reached inside her surcoat and brought out a large square of linen. "Because you have seen reason, and not gone off bellowing about honor and wealth and other foolishness, I have a little gift for you." She offered me the linen. I opened its folds to discover a smaller square, the size of a pocket-handkerchief. On it was embroidered a bumble-bee busy among a cluster of thyme. I looked up at her, my borrowed heart pounding with the elation I hoped Sir Antoine could feel also. Lady Michelle had given me her favor, stitched with the symbols of affection and fidelity. I would be her champion. Thanks to her wisdom, I would save Sir Antoine from possible death at the hands of an aging knight with everything to gain by killing him. I would also save the honor of Sir Etienne, ensuring him a comfortable old age. This was what chivalry was meant to be. "Ma demoiselle, ma belle Michelle, I accept this with greater joy than I can possibly express." She laid her exquisite hands on my shoulders, then ran both hands back through my long black hair, drawing me close. "When words fail you, mon cher, you must act." I rose, gathering her into my arms, and pressed a kiss to those soft, sweet lips. INBETWEEN written by SHELAYNE Having finished dinner, they were sipping coffee as he finished relating his story. "That was a beautiful, sweet memory" said Libby. "But gentlemen like that don't exist anymore." "Yes they do. You just have to find them." He watched her blush and look away. "Are you satisfied now that I'm an immortal soul?" asked Omar. "I'm not sure satisfied is the word I'd use. I'm fascinated at the least and I keep thinking that this would make a great book. Have you ever considered publishing these memories? Whether or not anyone believed them, they would make great reading." Libby put her cup down and turned off the tape recorder. Omar persisted. "But do you believe I am who I say I am?" Libby considered him for a moment. "I'm not sure what to believe. The rational part of me says you can't be immortal, yet no one could tell stories like you've told me with such detail. So either the memories are true or you're one fantastic liar." Omar looked at her. "Well, that's a fair answer. I can't complain." He smiled at her and finished his coffee. The belly dancers came out for one last number. As she watched, Libby found herself appreciative and slightly jealous for the way these dancing girls undulated with such bewitchment to the music. No wonder men were fascinated with them, she thought. "It's time to go" Omar said suddenly. He stood up and held out his hand to help Libby up. She took his hand and stood up just as Rasheed arrived to the table. She smoothed out her jacket while Omar paid Rasheed for the dinner, leaving a very generous tip for waiter. "Ah, thank you Mr. Schön and a good evening to you both." He bowed to them as Omar guided Libby out of the restaurant. They walked back to his apartment in silence, enjoying the warm evening, each buried in their own thoughts. As they reached his apartment door, Omar turned to Libby. "Would you like to come in for a while?" "I have to, at least for a moment" replied Libby with a grin. "My notepad is still in there." Omar smiled, unlocked the door and let her in before him. He followed her in, closing the door behind him and turned on a single light in the living room. Libby picked up her pad and pencil and tucked them back into her briefcase, getting ready to leave. She turned to Omar. "I want to thank you for a lovely evening..." She was cut off as Omar relieved her of her briefcase and purse and said, "The evening isn't over yet." He reached for her and crushed her to him in a suffocating embrace. Startled at first, Libby gave in and kissed him back with an intensity she had never known existed within her. As his kisses became savage in their rough demand, she gave back with the passion he had aroused from her sleeping soul. Omar felt the shift within her as his tongue devoured her mouth, his hands alternately reaching into her soft, thick hair and caressing her hips and buttocks. Libby moaned softly as her nether region began pulsating with the dull ache of wanting him inside her. She twined her arms around his neck, trying to press herself against him as hard as she could. Omar felt the desire flaming within both of them and, picking Libby up, he carried her into his bedroom. She kicked off her shoes before he set her down and was surprised to see the angle to which she had to look up at him. As they gazed into each other's eyes, Omar slid Libby's jacket down her arms and onto the floor. Her hands stayed by her side as he reached up and slowly undid the buttons of her blouse. As the last button was released, he opened her shirt and slid his hands on to her smooth skin, reveling in the feel of its softness. With her own hands she guided his to her bra, where he cupped each of her breasts. He could feel her hard nipples straining against the fabric as he gently squeezed. Libby's mouth opened a little as her breathing became more pronounced. Omar's hands moved to her shoulders where he slid her bra straps down her arms. Libby's hands came up to Omar's chest, wanting once again to feel his bare skin beneath her palms. He patiently waited for her to undo his shirt while he watched the top of her head, letting his hands play with her hair. As his shirt fell to the ground, Libby ran her fingers over his chest. She stepped up closer to him and it was Omar's turn to groan as her tongue played with one of his nipples. He finally lifted her chin up to look into her eyes. He could see her aura was still shielded but he wasn't sure that mattered anymore. His long arms reached around her back and deftly undid her bra, sliding it the rest of the way off her arms. He watched as his hands encircled her naked breasts, feeling the fullness of them and playing with her rosy peaks. He kissed her then, his mouth slowly moving away from hers as his tongue glided down her neck. Libby put her head back and arched herself towards him as his mouth closed over one of her breasts, his tongue exciting her skin and making every nerve in her body throb with desire. Her hands slid from his hips to his hardened manhood which strained against the clothing that held him back. As she slowly started to undo his pants, Omar's mouth moved from her breast up to her ear as he whispered "Oh, yes, let me be inside you." His hands raced over her naked torso and his breathing became heavier as Libby undid his belt. She had his zipper undone when suddenly the phone rang. Libby jumped but Omar pulled her back to him. "Just ignore it. It'll go away" and started to kiss her again when the answering machine came on. It was Jean, his agent, or rather, the actor's agent. Omar groaned and stood back from Libby. "Wait right here, it will only take a moment, but I have to take this call." He kissed her then walked into the front room and picked up the phone. "Hello?" "Omar? Where've you been all evening? I've been trying to call for hours." "I've been busy being interviewed by that journalist I told you about." "Oh, that's right. Well, you've got an audition tomorrow morning at 9 a.m. here in my office. Dress casual, you know, the Don Johnson/Miami Vice look. It's for this movie about a detective in the outback of Australia. Don't sweat it, I think you pretty much have it in the bag." "Alright, I'll be at your office by 9 a.m. sharp. Thanks." Omar hung up the phone and shook his head. A detective in the wilderness of Australia? What will Hollywood think up next? He sighed and walked back into his bedroom. Libby was completely dressed and just slipping her shoes on. "What's wrong?" he asked, a bewildered look on his face. "Nothing's wrong, but I have a deadline to meet by 11 p.m. tonight." "But we're not done with the interview." "I know, but I have to give them something, a teaser, a blurb, anything for the column for tomorrow's edition." Omar walked up to her and cupped her face. "Do you really have to go?" he whispered. Libby looked at him and felt her own desire starting up again. She sighed and stepped away from him. "I really have to go. Besides, it sounds like you need your beauty rest" she winked at him. He grinned back. "I could probably do this audition in my sleep." "Which is what you'd be doing if I stayed here all night." "Will I see you again tomorrow?" "Of course! I have to finish this story, don't I?" Libby walked to the front door with Omar following her. "I'll see you tomorrow around 4 p.m. if that works for you." "That'll be fine. I'll be waiting for you." He grabbed her back for one last kiss and Libby walked out the door. He watched her get into her car and drive off with a little wave to him. He smiled and closed the door. He leaned back against the front door as he realized he hadn't broken the shield around her aura. Oh well, there was always tomorrow. But what was it about her that attracted him so much? He thought about it as he walked into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of wine. He took his wine into the living room where he put on some soft music and relaxed on the couch. After a moment he realized what it was. The combination of Libby's eyes and hair reminded him of his one true love that had left him many years ago. Aliah. He closed his eyes as he thought back to her.... Chapter 7 "Aliah" written by Shelayne He heaved another bale of hay into the horse feeder hanging on the inside of the fence of the corral. He stopped to wipe the sweat from his brow, noticing again how the start of a new day never ceased to amaze him. The smell of hay mixed with the smell of the dew on the grass, the sounds of birds chirping and the cows gently calling for their young to come to them, all of it, so peaceful in its innocence. He finished feeding the horses and walked across the farmyard to the outer pasture. He leaned against the fence, waiting patiently for the sounds of baying sheep, which would signal the arrival of the most beautiful part of his morning routine. He remembered back to the first time that he had become aware of the joy that would change his life. The fog had just lifted from the hills when he heard the sound of the flock of sheep heading towards him. He went towards the sound, wondering who would bring their flock this far out from town? As he crested the hill, he stopped as he saw a vision that would stay with him for the rest of his life. A girl, no more than eighteen years of age, wearing a long, dark blue skirt and light yellow blouse with a turquoise shawl around her shoulders to ward against the morning chill. With a staff in her hand, she guided the flock of sheep, this way and that, to get them to the best grazing patch she could find. As she came out from the shadows, the sun hit her hair and glowed the colour of a fiery sunset. Surrounded by the sheep, she was a splash of colour against their white woolly coats. He found himself moving towards her before he knew it, subconsciously shielding his aura from her. As she scrambled after a stray, they came face to face with each other. He could see her eyes clearly now, dark pools with a warmth that he couldn't explain. And her aura, shielded from him, should have warned him of something, but he couldn't put aside her beauty long enough to figure it out. The sheep grazed about them as they looked at each other, lost in the vision that the other saw. Finally, he spoke. "Hello" he said. "Hello" she replied demurely. Her voice was soft and low with a sing-song lilt to it. "Who are you?' he asked. "I am Aliah." "Where are you from? I know everyone in this town and I've never seen you before." "I just arrived here recently to stay with my uncle, who is now my guardian. My parents died a few months ago and left me in his charge." "I'm sorry to hear that about your parents. Who is this uncle you are staying with?" "Jasper Fitzpatrick is my uncle." Oh no, he thought to himself, not the meanest man in town. How could someone like that have a niece as lovely as Aliah? "What is your name?" she asked. "I'm Will Downs. Would you...would you care to stay and talk with me for a while?" he boldly asked. "Why, I would enjoy that very much." He led her over to a clear spot in the pasture where the sun had already dried the dew from the grass. They both sat down, lost in silence for a moment. Then he spoke. "Aliah is an interesting name. I don't believe I've heard it before." She smiled at him wistfully. "No I don't suppose you have. You see, it's an Indian name, well, actually a contraction of an Indian name." "Indian?" "Yes. I'm part Cherokee." "Ah, that explains your dark brown eyes." "Does my heritage bother you?" "No, not at all. But tell me, where did you get your red hair from?" She smiled. "That's from the Irish side of the family. Fitzpatrick is Irish." "I see" he said as he smiled at her. They sat together and talked long into the morning. He felt guilty for wasting time like this but he couldn't bring himself to end this moment in time. They talked about everything, their pasts, their hopes for the future, their sorrows and their joys. They shared many of the same views and discussed the ones they disagreed on. It felt like they had known each other all their lives. As the afternoon wore on, he realized he had to get some work done. The sheep were dozing all around them and the cows had gone to the far pasture to graze. Time to head them back home for milking. He turned to Aliah. "I must get going. There's much to do and I live alone." "I'm sorry I kept you so long. I, too, must be getting back. I hope I didn't trouble you by bringing the sheep here to graze." He looked into her lovely dark eyes. "I hope you can find it within yourself to bring them here every morning." She smiled at him, a smile that outshone the sun. "I would like that very much" she replied. After that, they had met every morning at the same time and place. Through their talks, they got to know each other and had become very close. Today was a special day. He was going to ask her out. The sound of baying sheep broke him from his reverie and Aliah came over the hill, as beautiful as the sun's first rays breaking through the mist of dawn. He jumped over the fence and met her on top of the hill. They sat down as the sheep settled into grazing around them, saying nothing, just gazing into each other's eyes and speaking from soul to soul. Finally, Will broke the silence. "Aliah, are you going to the barn-raising this Saturday?" "Yes, if my uncle will let me. He's very fussy about me going around town by myself." "I was wondering if you would let me escort you. Maybe that way, if you have a proper escort, your uncle wouldn't be upset." Once again, that lovely smile beamed up at him. "I would love to go to the barn-raising with you." He smiled back at her. "Alright, then, I'll pick you up around 6 p.m." Saturday couldn't come soon enough for him. He worked at his chores extra hard so that he could take an afternoon off without feeling guilty of neglecting it. He dressed in the finest he had, which wasn't much, but would fit in nicely with the rest of the townsfolk, then hitched up his horse and buggy and drove off to Jasper Kiggins place. He arrived, walked up to the door and was just about to knock, when the door opened and there stood Aliah, in a simple, pale-blue dress, with little ribbons bunched up around the hem of her skirt. She had a dark blue shawl across her shoulders and a bunch of forget-me-nots entwined in her long hair. She was beautiful. "Are you ready?" he asked her. "Ready." He escorted her down to his buggy and helped her in, then went around to his side and climbed up beside her. They smiled at each other as he clicked the horse into motion. It was going to be a wonderful night. As they arrived at the Clarden's farm, they noticed that the party had already started. There was dancing and music and festive lights hung everywhere. He helped Aliah out of the buggy and escorted her over to the crowd. He introduced her and the other ladies took to her right away. They escorted her away from him as it was time to start the barn-raising. He took his place with the men and Mrs. Clarden began to divide the men up into teams. As he was waiting for her to call his name, he found himself standing next to Berck Clivesdale, a tall, heavily built man. Where Jasper Kiggins was mean, Berck Clivesdale was egotistical. This man always wanted the best of everything and with his fortune, he pretty much got his way. Will looked away from Berck, trying to find Aliah in the crowd of ladies. She wasn't hard to spot. She could be spotted amongst a hundred ladies, he thought to himself. Suddenly he heard Berck speaking at him. "You can't have her you know". "What are you talking about?" "Aliah. She's mine." "She's not a possession, Berck, she has a mind, quite a good one as a matter of fact and I think she can decide for herself whom she wants to be seen with." "She's only a woman, and a half-breed at that, but she's the most beautiful thing I've ever laid my eyes on and I mean to have her for my own." "You'll have to get through me first." Mrs. Carden saved Will from hearing Berck's rebuttal as she called his name. He went over to the team of men he had been assigned to, removed his jacket, loosened his collar, rolled up his shirt sleeves and selected the tools he needed. As soon as all four teams were set, each team was led to one of the four walls of the barn. The framing had been done earlier in the day and now all four framed walls were lying on the ground. The object was to raise it up, nail it into place, attach all of the panels along the wall, and finish up with slating the roof. The winning team got first choice at the buffet, which would be served by the ladies. Not only did the winning team get first choice at the food but first choice at their companion for the night, for they could choose one of the serving girls to dine with them. When a lady was chosen, she would go off with the man and another lady would fill in her spot at the buffet until she was chosen and so on. Will knew his team had to beat Breck's team or he would lose Aliah to him for that evening. With a determined look, he waited patiently for the gun to go off which would start them off. The yard was silent as everyone waited breathlessly for the gunshot. Mrs. Carden held the gun high in the air and made some last minute announcements on the rules. No fighting, no destroying another team's wall and no cussing. Okay, thought Will, I can handle those rules. Suddenly, the gunshot rang out and the men jumped to their section of wall. The ladies squealed in delight as the men started hammering and nailing wooden planks together. Will risked a quick glance at Aliah and noticed she was watching him, her eyes glowing with the expectation that his team would come in first. He couldn't disappoint her. His team was good and they put their wall up in record time. Now came the painstaking task of attaching every plank. It had to be done correctly so that the cold weather couldn't permeate the cracks and sicken the livestock. All four teams finally had their walls raised and were planking when Will found himself on the corner of his wall right next to Berck's team and Berck himself was on the corner. They each hammered their plank expertly when suddenly Berck appeared to lose control of his hammer in mid-swing and it came crashing down towards Will's head. Will jumped aside and the hammer glanced off the plank, making a dent in it. Mrs. Carden blew her whistle and called foul. Berck explained it was an accident and apologized so after a five-minute delay she let him back into the race. By this time Will had replaced his plank and move up to the roof. Berck's team was working as fast as they could but couldn't catch up to Will's team. The sweat beaded on his brow as he and another teammate drove home the final nails in the planks on the roof. A great cheer went up and Will's team was declared the winner. The other teams continued on until their section was done to see who would come in second, third and last. Will wiped his brow and put his jacket back on. Mrs. Clarden escorted his team up to the buffet table and the men started choosing their foods as well as choosing their companions. Will could hardly wait to get to Aliah. He looked her way and saw her smiling back at him in anticipation. He finally stood across from her. "Would you be my companion for the evening?" he asked. "I thought you'd never ask" she giggled and came out from behind the table. She filled her own plate and they both headed towards one of the great big apple trees and sat down beneath it. They laughed as they ate their dinner and things were fine on the outside. But inside, Will was worried. Obviously Aliah hadn't seen what Berck almost did to him and he debated if he should tell her what Berck had said to him. After a while he decided not to let anything spoil this wonderful evening for him or her. They finished with their super and were talking when the music started up again. Will jumped to his feet. "Aliah, come dance with me!" he said as he held out his hand to her. She took it, stood up and kept her hand in his as they headed to the yard. The fiddlers played a lively tune and Will danced Aliah all over the yard, finding immense joy at being able to hold her close in his arms. Time flew by for them and as other couples started going home, he realized that this night had to end and he needed to get her home. They both walked up to Mrs. Carden and thanked her for a lovely time then Will helped Aliah back into his buggy. As he got in beside her, she snuggled up close to him, wrapping her shawl about her shoulders. "Are you cold?" he asked. "I am a little bit but mostly I want to be next to you." He put an arm around her shoulders and drew her in as close as he could. They both sat in silence as they drove back towards her uncle's house. As they passed the river Aliah asked him to stop. He reigned in his horse and they sat and gazed upon the calm water. "See how the moon reflects her light off the water?" "Yes" he replied. "Don't you think it's beautiful?" "Aliah, nothing is as beautiful as you are." She turned her face to him and as he looked into her eyes, he knew they were meant for each other. He bent his head down and kissed her tenderly on her lips. When he opened his eyes he noticed the shield around her aura had shattered. Her aura was the deepest azure fading into a light sky-blue. It was beautiful but more than that, he could now see her for what she was. "Aliah, you're an empath!" "Yes. Is this a problem for you?" "No" he replied "it's just that there are so few of you in the world." "Healers run strong in my family, my Indian family. But how do you know I'm an empath?" "Well, it's hard to explain, in fact, I don't think you'd really believe me if I told you." "I would believe you. I will always believe you." He smiled at her tenderly. "Ask me again some other time and I'll tell you." She accepted his answer for now and kissed him. They held each other for a long time afterwards, reveling in the joy and comfort of just being together. Eventually, he had to break the spell and drive her home. They pulled up in front of her uncle's house and he escorted her to the door. "Thank you for a wonderful evening Will." "Thank you for sharing it with me." They kissed one last time, a longing, soul-searching kiss. As he lifted his head from her, there was a silent understanding between them. Finally, Will voiced the unspoken question. "Aliah, will you be mine?" "Oh, Will, I'll be yours forever." She gave him a hug and stepped inside her front door. "I'll see you Monday morning." She closed the door slowly to prolong seeing his face. Finally the door shut and he walked back to his buggy. Forever, she had said. He knew what forever was and knew she would only be with him until she died. He thought about it. He could take over this body for the rest of its natural life. It would be going against the rules of the immortals, but the host soul was a hermit who had let his farm and animals run down. The man simply had not wanted to live ever since his young wife had died of yellow fever. If they married soon, there would be nothing Breck could do about it. She would belong to Will, and no one could say any different. He drove back to his farm thinking of their life together. It would be a good life and someday, maybe he would tell her about his immortal soul. Maybe. He reached his farm and put the horse out to pasture. Tomorrow was Sunday. He wouldn't see Aliah for she would be in church. He walked over to the fence and looked out to their favorite spot on the hill. Monday morning they would sit in their spot on that hill and make final plans for their wedding. Yes, it would be a good life. He walked inside his house and went to bed. The next morning he did his chores and made repairs around the farm. Late in the afternoon he was taking a break in the kitchen when he heard someone banging on his front door. He opened it up and there he found Aliah, curled up at the foot of his door, sobbing her heart out. He knelt down to her and held her close. "Aliah, my love, what is it? What's wrong?" She turned her tear-streaked face to him. "Will, my uncle is making me marry Breck Clivesdale in one week's time!" "What?" "When I walked in last night, they were discussing me in the parlour. I walked in on them and Breck offered my father money as my dowry to him if he could have me for his bride. My uncle sold me like I was some livestock to be traded to the highest bidder." "You can tell him no, can't you?" "No. I'm penniless, you see. My parents left me nothing. I am under my uncle's care until I'm twenty. But I refuse to marry him. You are the only one I want. Will, I love you, I love you!" She broke down into tears again and Will just held her close, thinking of someway out of this situation. "Here's what we'll do. Do you know how to hitch up your uncle's horse and buggy?" "Yes." "Then you go back to your uncle's and pack up some things. Tonight after it gets dark, drive here in that horse and buggy. When you get here, we'll unhitch the buggy and take off on horse-back and go far away from here. In the morning, they will follow the buggy tracks to this farm but we'll be long gone." "But what about your farm, your animals?" "None of that matters if I can't have you." Will kissed her passionately, holding her to him as if he'd never let go. She returned his kiss, clinging to him for support. Finally he broke away from her. "Aliah, can you do all this?" With a determined look in her eyes she said "Yes. I will be here tonight after dark." She gave him a quick kiss and stood up. He helped her back on to her horse and she gave him a brave smile as she rode off. Will went to his kitchen table, grabbing a pencil and paper along the way and sat down to divide up his farm amongst the townspeople. The afternoon turned into dusk as he packed a few belongings and saddled his fastest horse. He knew the horse she would be riding would be a good one. Jasper had a keen eye for good horses. He sat on the porch, waiting for her. The evening passed and Aliah hadn't arrived. He began to worry that maybe Jasper had caught her trying to sneak out. If he did, what would he do to her? Will fretted all evening and finally decided to ride into town and see if he could find her. He mounted his horse and took off towards Jasper Kiggins place. As he reached the house, all of the lights were off, looking for all the world like everyone was asleep. He stood looking at the house, not knowing which window led to her bedroom. Frustrated, he finally went back to his farm, intending to find out what happened to her the next day. The next day found him back at Kiggins place, pounding on the door. There was no reply so he called out to her. "Aliah! Aliah, where are you?" He ran around to the back but found nothing. As he came back to the front of the house, he found Jasper waiting for him on the front porch. Will walked up to him. "What have you done with her?" he demanded. Jasper gave him a cold look. "She's seen the errors of her ways and is now safely with Breck, where she belongs, away from your thieving hands." "Thieving?" "Yes! You tried to steal her away last night, didn't you? Well, I stopped her before that could happen. Now you won't be able to marry her and get my money. That's all you're after." "She is not a slave to be bought and sold!" cried Will. "Is that what she told you? Probably didn't want to make herself look bad. She went to Breck willingly and there she will be happy." Will refused to believe that Aliah would betray him. "You don't care about her happiness. All you care about is the money you've made from selling her to Breck." "And he's welcome to her, the little half-breed!" "Why you son of a...!" and Will punched Jasper in the jaw, sending the old man reeling backwards. Their shouting had awakened the neighbors who came out to see the commotion. As Will went back for Jasper, some of the men who had been watching the scene, came up and grabbed Will's arms, keeping him away from Jasper. Jasper stood up, blood trickling from a split lip, and stepped up to Will. "Hold him boys" and Jasper beat on Will while the men held him still. Finally Jasper stopped. "Now get out of this town and don't ever come back, you hear? And never, ever, try to find Aliah or next time, I'll kill you." Will slowly picked himself up off the ground, moaning in pain from the blows to his face and stomach. Jasper gave some money to the men who had held Will. "Make sure he gets a one-way ticket on the next train." Will was roughly dragged away towards the railway station. He was bewildered at the turn of events and even in his pain, he could only think of Aliah. Had she betrayed him? No, it wasn't possible. He would find a way back to her and discover the truth, somehow. He couldn't bear to think of Breck touching her, much less becoming her husband. He would take this train out of town and come back with reinforcements, he decided. As they approached the station, he noticed that the three men escorting him had suddenly grown quite. He looked at them as they eyed each other in a silent conversation. Suddenly he felt a terrible premonition take hold of him. His premonition became reality when they guided him away from the station and to the water tower. He thought that he was in for another beating from these men. "What are you going to do to me?" asked Will. They stood him with his back against the leg of the water tower. "Why should we waste this money sending you out of town, when we could do the world a favour by sending you out of this life?" The others laughed wickedly and Will realized his worst fears. They were going to kill him. There was no one else around, no one to hear his cries. They had chosen an excellent spot for murder. He realized he would have to jump into one of their bodies, but how would Aliah be able to recognize him in one of these thugs? He would have to chance it. The train whistle sounded as the engine came around the bend. The men held him towards the tracks and he realized they were going to push him in front of the train. He began to struggle, the human emotion getting the better of him and as the train rumbled within yards of them, they punched him once, twice and a third time sent him sprawling across the tracks. As he turned his head, his vision blurred by the blood seeping into his eyes, he saw the train upon him. He closed his eyes and jumped as the train struck the farmer's body. His bewildered soul floated to the passenger car and he found himself drawn to the aura of a man sitting alone. He was wearing a suit, had a dark beard, kind eyes and wore a black top hat.. His soul settled gently into the body and as he slowly pushed the host soul aside, he realized it was too late to look for another host, that his soul had recognized in this man, a majestic aura destined for greatness. He closed his eyes and a tear slowly rolled down his cheek for his beloved Aliah. He would never see her again, his perfect love, that the Creator had taken from him. Would she think about him? A daemon whispered in his head, had she willingly gone off with Breck? This thought tore his heart in two, this unwanted betrayal. And he would never know the truth. That thought hurt more than losing her. A voice brought him back to the present. It was the train conductor, anxiously peering into his face. "Are you alright, Mr. Lincoln?" INBETWEEN written by SHELAYNE Omar brought himself back from his memories of Aliah and realized he had finished his glass of wine. Time for bed, he thought. And a lonely bed tonight. Suddenly the words of the song that was playing hit him. "Longing to tell you, but afraid and shy, I let my golden chances pass me by. Soon you'd leave me, Off you would go in the mist of days, Never, never to know, How I loved you.... How I love you." The longing in the voice of the singer echoed his own heart. He tried telling himself that everything worked out according to the Creator's plan, but it didn't heal the pain in his soul. He sighed as he stood up and turned off the cd player. He flipped the light switch off as he headed towards the kitchen to put his glass in the sink. He took some comfort in the fact that tomorrow he would see Libby again. He walked into his bedroom and noticed that her perfume lingered in the air. He breathed it in deeply as he finished undressing for bed. He slipped between the covers, thinking of Libby's silky hair and smooth skin. He closed his eyes as his mind thought back to their foreplay, his body aching for her. He gave a heavy sigh and turned on to his side. Tomorrow, he thought. Soon his breathing settled into the even rhythm of sleep. Omar arrived at his agent's office at 9 on the dot the following morning. "Good morning Omar. How did that interview go yesterday?" said Jean. "Well, it's not finished yet. We hope to finish it today." "Good. The sooner it's in the paper, the more people will know about you and that's what it's all about - getting your name out there. Let's go straight into the auditioning room. Mr. Maxwell from Changing Names Production Company is there already. We're going to audition you along with numerous females for the leading lady role." "So what is this film about?" "Basically, it's about a pair of detectives, male and female, who bust crimes in the Australian outback." "Hm....sounds like a real winner." "Well, it might not be the best script, but it's your first leading role. This could really take you places." Omar sighed, wishing it was four o'clock already. "Well, let's get this done. The interviewer is coming back this afternoon." "Right in here." As Omar passed through the lounge area already full of potential actresses furiously studying their sides, Jean opened the door to the inner room. Omar followed her in and she shut the door behind him. "Omar, this is Mr. Maxwell. And this is his assistant, John Crowe, who'll be operating the camera." Omar crossed over to Mr. Maxwell and shook his hand. "How do you do, Mr. Maxwell." "Ah, Mr. Schön, glad to meet you. I've read your resumé and heard many good things about you. Of course, I've watched some of your films, too." "That's kind of you, thank you sir." Omar and Mr. Maxwell sat down while Jean hovered in back of Omar. "Mr. Schön, basically, you've got the part if you'll take it - " "Oh, he'll take it" piped up Jean. " - good, and we need you here this morning to pair you with your leading lady. Jean will show them in one by one, you'll read with them and hopefully we'll find a female detective amongst them." "Here's your side, Omar" said Jean, handing him the partial script. Omar read through his side quickly then looked up at Mr. Maxwell. "There's a kissing scene in this?" questioned Omar. "There's an entire love-making scene in it! But we're only doing the kiss today. As you can probably tell by this, the pair of detectives end up together at the end, after they catch the bad guys of course." Mr. Maxwell smiled. Omar wondered what Libby would say when she found out he had a nude scene with another women. Then he shook his head. It's not like they were an 'item'. Or were they, he mused. Jean spoke up. "Shall I send them in now?" "Yes please" replied Mr. Maxwell. Omar stood up at the end of the room while Mr. Maxwell's assistant focused the screening camera on him. Jean brought in the first female actress and introduced her to Mr. Maxwell and led her up to Omar. "Alright, everyone had a chance to look over their sides? Great. Crowe, start the camera rolling. Please look into the camera, state your name, give a 5 beat break and start the scene. Go." Mr. Maxwell sat back to watch. Omar started off with the required information and groaned silently as the actress spoke her first words. Fingernails on a blackboard would have been a welcome sound compared to her voice as she screeched out her lines. Omar dreaded the moment at the end of this scene when he would have to actually kiss her. The moment came, the actress looking up at Omar expectantly, lips already parted, flinging her pages aside to leave her hands free to grasp his hair. Finally it was over. The actress was thanked and escorted out. Omar gave Jean a look of disgust and Jean just smiled and shrugged her shoulders. So the next few hours went. A long string of actresses came and went, as one faded into the next. Omar wasn't using his pages anymore, having memorized them after the first 7 times reading through it. All of them were exceedingly anxious to get to the kissing part. All of them, he thought disgustedly. And none of them were right for the part. This female character needed to be confident, savvy, playful and smart. In fact, thought Omar, Libby would be perfect for this role. Finally the last actress left and Omar wearily sat down with Jean and Mr. Maxwell "Well," said Mr. Maxwell, "that was a pathetic lot of actresses, do you agree Omar?" "It's really not my place to say." "Sure it is. You have to act with them. Did you feel like you blended with any of them? Were comfortable with any of them?" Omar looked him in the eye. "No sir." "Neither did I. Jean, you got any more actresses for me to see?" "Not at this time. I can check around tomorrow at some of the other agencies and see what they have." "You do that and we'll all meet back here tomorrow morning, same time." They all stood up preparing to leave. Omar decided to voice his thoughts about Libby. "Mr. Maxwell, I don't mean to tell you your business, but I know someone who would be perfect for this part." "Really? Who is she?" "Yes, Omar, who is she?" echoed Jean, raising an eyebrow. "I met a woman yesterday who has all the traits that this character does. She's smart, confident, beautiful and I feel very comfortable with her." Especially for the love-making scenes, he thought to himself. "Bring her by tomorrow." "Yes sir." Omar walked past Jean, not looking at her as she gave him a pointed look. He walked out of the building to his car, looking at his watch. He had just enough time to get home, eat a quick bite and wash up before Libby came over. A smile played about his lips as he thought of this evening with anticipation. He arrived home, made a quick lunch and took a shower. The doorbell rang and he looked at his watch. Four o'clock, she was right on time. He looked in the mirror one last time. Khaki dockers, white dress shirt with the first few buttons undone and brown loafers completed his dress. His hair was still a bit damp but it would dry. He walked out of his bedroom and opened the front door. "You're on time" he said as he went to kiss her. She avoided his kiss and swept by him as she headed into the living room. Bewildered by her apparent agitation, he closed the door and followed her in. He noticed that today she wore a black mini-skirt with a matching jacket and a white sheer blouse. "What's wrong?" "What's wrong?" she asked in a voice full of contempt. "Have you read any of the papers today?" "Not yet" he replied. "Well, take a look at the Daily Chronicle, our rival newspaper." She practically threw the copy she had in her hand at him. "Turn to page A26, half way down the page." Libby set her briefcase down and began pacing. Omar turned to the page and looked down. There in big bold print was the headline "Rival Reporter Revs Up Her Engine in Local Restaurant" and below the headline was a picture of him kissing Libby at the dinner table from the night before. Omar scanned the column quickly, noting that it was usual tabloid talk, none of it true of course. He looked up at her and found her still pacing the floor. "It could have been worse" he said. Libby exploded. "Omar, you don't get it do you? It is worse. I was here to interview you for our paper and what happens? Our rival paper scoops me! Not only that, but because I didn't finish this interview yesterday, I had nothing but a paragraph full of bullshit in the column today just to appease my editor!" "Calm down Libby - " "I don't want to calm down! I asked you not to kiss me at the restaurant last night but you did anyway. And look what happened because of it." She held up her other hand, waving a pink slip in his face. "You got fired?" "You're damn right I got fired!" She wadded up the paper and threw it in the corner. "Libby, I can't believe they fired you over something like this. I mean, this kind of stuff happens all of the time. Believe me, it'll blow over and in a few days everyone will forget about it." "That's where you're wrong. This isn't a tabloid, this is a war between newspapers and the Daily Chronicle has been looking for a way to break the City Post for many years. And it all fell on me. I'm finished." Omar stepped up to her and put both hands on her shoulders. "Well, have you considered an alternate job?" Libby shrugged his hands off her shoulders and sat down on the couch. "I've been too angry to think about anything. And don't try to be all sweet and considerate with me. I know you really don't care about this. I mean, hey, what the hell, if it gets too hot for you, you just pop into another body. But you leave behind me and the actor to deal with the outcome. Do you think he's going to like all the rumours that will be flying about him?" Omar sat on the couch next to Libby and took her hands in his. "First of all, I'm not going anywhere for a while. I told you I try to leave the host body in as good as situation or better when I leave it. That goes for this body too. And second of all, you're wrong when you say I don't care. I do care. I care about you a lot. I spent most of last night and all day today thinking of you. Can you say the same about me?" "Actually, yes I can. First I had tender thoughts of you and more recently I had hateful thoughts of you.. In fact" she rose to get her briefcase "before everything blew up in my face, I had lunch with a publisher friend of mine and told him about my interviewing you." Libby came back to the couch, sat back down and opened her briefcase, taking out a multi-paged contract. "My publisher friend was very interested in these 'memories' of yours - don't worry, I didn't tell him about your immortality - and he wants to publish a book of them." "A book?" Omar was thoughtful. "Yes. And in light of recent events, this might just be the other job you were talking about. You tell me your memories, I write up the book, my friend gets it published and we split the profits." Libby took out her notepad, pencil and recorder. "I'll have to think about the book thing, okay?" "Omar, you owe me this." "I think I owe you something better than a job." He watched her as her eyes went automatically to his lips and he smiled. She looked back to his eyes and he bent his head towards her. She pushed him back. "No Omar, don't start kissing me. I'm not in the mood and we really should start working on this book. I'm going to be out of money soon." "It's going to take longer than this afternoon to write a book." He started removing her interviewing materials from her hands as she tried to push him away. "Well, that may be but, will you...will you just stop!" She tried to pick up her work materials but he grabbed her hands and pushed her backward on the couch. Libby ended up flat on her back with Omar on top of her. "Omar, please - " and he brought his lips down on hers, giving her little chance to catch a breath. His tongue forced its way into her mouth, exploring every crevice, savoring the taste of her. Libby tried to fight, but realized it was hopeless to stop the tidal wave of passion that engulfed them. Her tongue found his as her thoughts surrendered themselves to the physical delight she was feeling. As they kissed, Omar laced his fingers through hers and kept her hands above her head. After a few moments he lifted his head to look at her and spoke in a ragged voice "Finally, a decent kiss." Libby raised her eyebrows. "I didn't hear you complaining last night." "No, it's not you, it's all of the actresses I had to kiss today." As soon as he spoke, he knew that was the wrong thing to say. Libby wriggled out from under him, a hurt look on her face. "What actresses?" she asked as she sat up. "Libby, I told you I had that audition this morning. Unfortunately it involved having to kiss many of the actresses that were auditioning for the female lead." Libby stood up and walked to the window. "I see" she said, with her back to him. Omar stood up and walked up behind her. "It's part of the script. Not only that, but there's an entire love-making scene between me and the female lead. But as for the kissing, believe me, I didn't enjoy it, especially when all I could do was think about you." "So, who's the lucky actress who gets to play opposite you?" "Well, here's the funny part. They didn't find one they liked. I told them I knew someone who would be perfect for the part and they told me to bring her in tomorrow morning to audition for it." "And who might that be?" Omar smiled as he turned her towards him. He took her face in his hands and said "You." Libby's eyes went wide. "Me?" she said. "But I can't act. I've never done anything like that before in my life." "There's a first time for everything. Besides, you need a new job. Maybe acting is the thing for you. But whatever, you and I have to be there at 9 a.m. tomorrow morning." He gave her a quick kiss and then led her back to the couch. "Now let me take a look at that book contract" he said as they sat down. Libby picked up the contract off the floor where it had fallen and handed it to him. She watched him silently as he glanced through the contract. He was such a handsome man, she thought, truly beautiful. Even though she knew an immortal soul was inside this actor, it was a wonder that he was still single. Which brought her to a point. She knew she was in love with him. But was she falling in love with the actor, or the immortal soul? As she continued to watch him, she spoke up. "I have a question about these auras that you can see." "Go ahead." "When you look at auras, do they look the same on everyone, like the same colour or pattern?" "No. Each aura is individualized." "So if you happened to meet someone today that you had met a long time ago, and didn't remember their face, you would be able to remember them by their aura?" "Yes, although I've never run into the same person twice, unless it was another immortal." Libby stood up again and walked around the room, looking at the furnishings and finally ending up at the window again. Omar noticed her restlessness and finished reading the contract. "Well," he said, "the contract looks fine to me." "Will you do it then?" "If it means getting to spend each day with you, then yes." "Good" she said, turning back to look out the window. He crossed to her and enfolded her in his arms as he stood behind her. He started nuzzling her neck as he pressed her close to him. Her voice stopped him. "Tell me another memory." Omar looked down at her as she turned to look up in his face. "Please" she said. She turned back towards the window but rested her head contentedly on his shoulder. There was something in the way her voice broke that reminded him once again that she was hiding something. He'd felt it instinctively ever since she first walked into his life, a mere twenty-four hours ago. This woman was a mystery to him but he found himself caring deeply for her. But what was it about her? On the outside she appeared to be everything she seemed but every once in a while there was something in her voice and eyes that betrayed a deep secret. If he could shatter her shield and see her aura, he felt sure that he would discover whatever it was she was trying to hide. And then......and then what? Would the Creator allow another woman to come in his life only to snatch her away from him again? Or would the Creator let him keep her? Could he break the rules of the immortals and stay with her for the rest of her life? He sighed inwardly. Nothing would be solved until he broke her shield. And he could only do that by making love to her, to get to her inner-most core of emotions and release her feelings to him. But right now she wanted another memory. He held her close as he began. CHAPTER 8 written by Lish "I will tell you this time of a woman who was more friend than lover. A daughter, a sister to me, rather than a wife." Omar paused, staring off into the distance, his eyes focused on some object far away, long behind him. Libby could see it swimming in the black liquid of his pupil; the focus changed, the centuries rolling back farther and farther, the mind's eye seeing that gawky brunette again. "I told you once that I was always attracted to adventurous souls, those who chased the horizon, ever searching for something more. There are times when these bodies took me along on their quests- adventurous on their own. I was drawn to them perhaps because of my own wanderlust. Then there were those I helped. The ones who dreamed of foreign shores, whose hearts ached for adventure. Their hopeless longing appealed to me. You may think me arrogant, but I enjoy the thought that I made dreams come true. "And once, this soul was that of a woman. "I refuse to say that I was attracted to her, that I was somehow a willing partner. She pulled me in, as she pulled in every other man in her life. I was helpless against her. She was too powerful, too strong, too destined for greatness and fame and myth for me to resist. I felt like I was buried by her. I wanted to share that future. And God, I wanted to be her. "The woman had everything. She did not need to find adventure or glory, for they would come to her. And she knew that. She did not need me, I needed her, pined for her. My lust was so strong that against all laws of my kind, of nature, I tried to link with her. I tried and I tried. And I succeeded. For a second. "But for that second I was more aware of a host body than I had ever been or will ever be. The feel of long hair brushing against the sensitive skin at the small of her back. The blood pounding through her limbs. The strange weight of breasts heavy upon her chest. And deep within her belly, she prepared for the possibility of a new life. "Then, she pushed me out. "Her soul, her essence swelled up inside that little cavern of the mind where I had pushed it. It was not rage; she was never angry about it. There was something of amusement at my impudence. I believe she may have been flattered, but she did not want me or my help. She would go where destiny took her and she would go on her own. Her soul grew and grew, imbuing her body with a sense of her own greatness, her own power. Then there was no more room for me and I stumbled out, gasping. "But I could not leave her. I wanted to share her life with her, as best I could. I suppose I could have taken the bodies of her lovers. But I wanted her or I wanted nothing at all. "I remained without a host as long as I could. She had a manservant, a eunuch. I took his body when I could no longer sustain myself. He was a simple soul and retreated on his own, shivering and hoping I would not carry him away. His was a nature content with its lot. "So I was able to stay with her, if not inside of her. The eunuch had no tongue and thus I became her close confidante. I could not journey through life with her, but it was enough to hear the stories from her lips. "And the stories she told me. Carpets, cruises, assassinations. Things no other living soul dreamed she thought about. When she was away from me, I wanted to die, trapped in the eunuch's plump, complacent body. I sensed she knew it was me, that the spirit she had rejected had settled close. But still she told and she told. And I lived vicariously through her tales. "But through the years I listened, I heard her falling apart. Her first love torn to pieces by a mob, she fled his country and came back to me. Her second was her downfall. "They called him 'Dionysus the Cruel and the Eater of Flesh.' She could have done so much better. He was a foolish man. The would-be ruler of the Eastern half of the empire and of her as well. But she used him. It was a bad gamble; he was not the man who could have helped her. His enemies hounded them from across the world and to their deaths. I saw her destiny unwinding, falling apart. If only I'd had a tongue. She tried to gather up the tatters her life, her country, had become and was bound in them, too tight to escape. And my heart broke to see it. "The asp was a relief. It was I who hid it in her figs. At her request of course. And when she died I was free. No longer a prisoner to her. But it was terrible. I had watched her grow. She became a woman while I brushed her hair. A queen as I packed her chests with linens. A mother while I poured bath water. A traitor and an enemy and the temptress of the East as I painted her nails her favorite shade of rusty red and her sons toddled around on chubby feet. Her life crashed down around her while mine remained static. And I could not forgive myself for that, but I could do nothing to change it. "Perhaps I could have taken the bodies of her lovers and changed the course of her fate. But they were nothing compared to her. She dominated them. And she would have crushed me. I was her silent, supporting chorus. I listened in rapture as she ruled the man who ruled Rome when Rome ruled the world. And I still listened when, because of his idiot friend and his pimply-faced youth of a nephew, she collapsed, and in doing so, became legend." Deep in the swirling black of his eye, Libby caught glimpses of sun-dappled mosaics, boats floating on an immense river, and white linens drying in the hot Mediterranean sun. The woman of Omar's memory turned brown eyes rimmed with kohl back at her. A sad, but knowing smile crossed her full lips before the image turned in a cloud of dark hair to disappear and his eyes focused again upon the present. INBETWEEN written by SHELAYNE He finished and they stood in silence for a few moments. Then Libby stepped out of his embrace and put some distance between them. "What is it?" asked Omar. "You've loved so many women in your immortal life." "Are you jealous?" he asked playfully. But Libby wouldn't rise to the bait. "How can you stand to lose them? It would drive me nuts." "I guess I try not to love them too deeply." 'You mean there has never been one woman above all the rest?" Omar turned to look out the window. "Yes, there was one woman. Once. But that was a long time ago, well, not long ago in terms of my lifetime. But I guess you would say that she was my soul-mate." "What happened?" Omar spoke hesitantly. "She...left me." "She left you?" Omar sighed. "We were supposed to get married but she went off with a rival suitor." "You were going to get married? I thought immortals couldn't take over a human's body." "We're not supposed to. But I would have done anything for her." Libby walked over to Omar to stare out the window along with him. "What was she like?" His voice was distant as he spoke. "She was the dew that kisses the roses on a clear summer's morn. She was the golden rays that last touch the earth at dusk. She was the moon reflecting her beauty off a crystal pond." "What was her name?" "Her name was Aliah." "Aliah? That's a ...beautiful name. Did you love her?" Libby asked softly. "I loved her but more to the point, I was very much inin love with her." "Tell me about her." Omar turned to Libby. "No." Libby persisted. "Why not? It's another memory for the book." "Even though it happened a hundred and fifty years ago, it's still very painful to talk about. I had found my soul-mate and she betrayed me." He took her face in his hands. "Besides, I'm here in this present time and would rather spend it getting to know you." His kisses cut off any more questions Libby might have about Aliah and Libby didn't fight him. He pulled back for a moment to gaze into her eyes, finding there an array of emotions that seemed to be battling within her. He slowly brought his mouth within an inch of her own, giving her the opportunity to stop him, but she snaked her arms around his neck, parting her lips in silent invitation and closed the small gap between them. His arms went around her, crushing him to her, in a savage, desperate embrace, all the emotions he thought he had sealed away, coming to bear in this one moment. After he had ravaged her mouth and face with his kisses, he drew back once more to look in her eyes. The look that met his was troubled, her eyes becoming pools of dark amber floating in the tears that filled her eyes. "Libby, what is it?" Before she could speak, the front door flew open with a crash. As Omar and Libby turned their heads towards the sound, Jean walked in to the living room. She saw the two of them in an embrace and stopped short. "You!" she cried, pointing her finger at Libby. Omar released Libby and turned to confront Jean. "What's this all about?" Jean shook the newspaper at him. "What is THIS all about? I expected you to get coverage, but not like this!" She slammed the paper down on the coffee table and put her hands on her hips. "I expected an interview of the highest quality to get your name out there in the entertainment world. And what do I get instead? A bunch of tabloid shit made worse by the fact that it's in the newspaper, not the tabloids! Not many people read tabloids but almost everyone reads the newspaper." "It was an accident..." Omar started to reply. "An accident? Oh really? Tell me Omar, how do lips 'accidentally' meet? And is it an accident that you're sleeping with the reporter?" Omar's voice became menacing. "Watch it, Jean. You're on dangerous ground here, especially in light of the fact that you have no idea what's really going on." "Oh, but I do know. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to put two and two together. First this picture, then I find you in an embrace from hell! I just hope that I won't hear the pitter-patter of little feet in nine-month's time!" "Don't worry, you won't" Libby retorted. She picked up her things and put them in her brief-case. "I'm sorry" she said to Omar "none of this was supposed to happen. Goodbye." Libby walked out of the living room and out the front door. Omar went to stop her but Jean held him back. "Let her go, Omar." Omar pushed Jean aside and raced after Libby. "Libby, Libby stop! Please!" Libby stopped on her way down the steps and turned to face him. Omar caught up with her, grabbing her by the shoulders. "Don't listen to Jean, she's just blowing off steam." "No, Omar, she's right, to a point. This is bad for your career, or rather, the actor's career. I don't want to do anything that could hurt you...him. But I will tell you something. She's in love with you." "What? How do you know this?" Omar looked shocked. "It takes a woman in love to recognize another woman in love. Goodbye." Libby started back down the steps. Omar grabbed her by the arm. "Just wait a sec. I don't like this goodbye business. Let me get rid of her and then we'll spend this evening sorting things out on how to handle this whole newspaper mess." "I think that not seeing each other any more would be the best way to solve it." "No...I...wait, Libby. Please." Something in the way he said please made Libby stay a moment longer. He caressed her cheek as he spoke. "I don't want this to be goodbye. I know it's only been a couple of days but I have very deep feelings for you. When you're not near me, I go crazy. I .... I think I'm falling in love with you. But I can't work everything out in the next five minutes. Let me get Jean calmed down and out of here and then we can talk. Please." Libby hesitated. "I need...time...to think about this." Omar sighed. "Alright. But don't do anything rash like leaving town. Promise me?" She tried to look away but he held her face to him, forcing her to look at him. "Promise me." Libby gave in. "I promise." "Thank you. I'll be by your place 8:30 in the morning to pick you up for the audition and I won't take no for an answer. Give me your address." Libby wrote her address on the back of one of her business cards and handed it to him. "Dress casual, okay?" "Okay." Omar kissed her tenderly on the lips. Libby got into her car and drove off leaving him to face the demon in his living room. He walked back in and found Jean watching out through the front window. "That was such a moving scene. Was it real or was it Memorex?" "Cut the crap. What is your problem?" "My problem is her. She's bad for your career and she's not good enough for you." "And how do you know what's good for me and what isn't?" "Omar, we've gone to college together, graduated together, told each other our hopes and dreams, hell, we're business partners. I think I know you very well." "And I think you're jealous." Jean's eyes opened wide. "Jealous? Of that little snit? You've got to be joking. She's a reporter, she's nothing..." "She's everything you wish you were, confident, beautiful and accomplished. And let me tell you something. I'm very much in love with her. If you can't deal with that, then tell me right now and I'll get another agent." Jean paled. "Omar, you don't mean that." "I do mean it. I have let you run my life for too long, all through school and now as my agent. Don't get me wrong. I'm thankful for all that you have done for my career, but you need to learn what is career and what is personal, and when to let me go." Jean's face turned ashen as every point Omar made came home to her. "Well, I guess there's nothing more to say then, is there?" she said in a small voice. "Only one more thing. I would like my house-key please." Omar held out his hand to receive it. "What?" "I locked that door behind Libby when she came in today. There's no way you could have opened it unless you had a key." Jean looked guilty and Omar knew he had guessed the truth. She slowly brought it out of her pocket and handed it to him. "I made it only in case of emergencies" she said meekly. Omar put it in his own pocket and escorted her to the door. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a lot of work to do tonight, to try and repair the damage you've caused." Jean turned to look up at him, her eyes filled with tears. "I only did this because I care for you." Omar softened his voice a little. "I know that." She composed herself. "You'll be at the office at 9 a.m.?" "Yes, I'll be there." Jean walked out the door and he closed it behind her. What a night, he thought. Sometimes, humans lead the most complicated lives. The next morning found him in his car on his way to pick up Libby. He'd had a long night to think about things, about what he really wanted. All of his thoughts had pointed to one thing. He wanted a beginning and an end, a single lifetime with someone he loved. And he wanted it with Libby. He had no idea how to become mortal but he knew how to end his immortality. When the time came, he could simply refuse to jump. Tonight he would ask Libby to marry him and then take over this actor's life. Only the creator could stop him, by either taking her away from him or terminating his immortal soul. Either way, he would leave this world behind, for he couldn't live without Libby. He pulled up in front of her flat and got out of the car. He walked up to her front door with some trepidation. Would she keep her promise and be here to open the door? Or would she have left in the middle of the night, without any explanation? His heart pounded as he knocked on the door. A few agonizing moments and then he heard the doorknob rattle. The door opened and Libby stood there, a radiant smile beaming from her face. "Hi" he said. "Hi" returned Libby. Before he could take a step through the door, she threw herself on him, wrapped her arms around his neck and drew his head down to her for a deep kiss. They stayed locked in this embrace for a few minutes, heedless of the passer's by, then he finally lifted his head from her. "That's the way I want to be greeted each morning" he smiled. She grinned as she stepped out of his arms. "Let me get my keys and we can go." She stepped into her flat and checked her appearance in a mirror in the hallway as she picked up her keys. "Do I look alright? I mean, is this what you meant by casual?" she asked anxiously. He looked her up and down. A white, low-scooped knit top, tight enough to show off the fullness of her breasts, straight-leg blue-jeans, stone-washed he believed they were called, and burgundy loafers completed her dress. "You look great, as always." She blushed at his compliment and took a quick glance at him. He also had on a white tee-shirt, khaki sports-coat, blue-jeans and brown doc martens. Her eyes lifted back to his and she found him watching her with an amusement that turned quickly to something else. With a blush, she turned back to the mirror. He stepped up behind her, unmindful of the open front door and circled his arms around her until his hands cupped her breasts. He heard her sharp intake of breath as he gently kneaded them, playing with her nipples until they hardened. He felt her body arching as she pushed herself against his hands. His mouth moved to her ear "You like this?" he gently whispered. A soft moan from her lips was his answer as her arms lifted above her head, giving him complete access to her body. Her hands found his hair and her fingers locked in his ringlets as his hands slowly moved over her body. She whimpered in frustration at her clothing which barred his hands from her bare body as they lingered a moment in the area between her legs. Then his fingers moved up her torso to play with the bare skin of her breasts showing over the top of her shirt. "I'm glad you enjoy this because I'm in love with you and your body, especially your breasts" he said as he nipped her ears playfully with his teeth. Libby finally found her voice. "What is it with you men and a woman's breasts?" Omar stopped nibbling for a moment and thought. "They're fascinating" he finally said. "They're two lumps of fat" Libby retorted. "Well, I never knew fat could be so beautiful." "You think they're beautiful? You wouldn't if you had to lug them around twenty-four seven." "Hmm...it's been a day or so since I've seen them. I'd better look again to make sure I know what I'm talking about." And with that, he grabbed a hold of the neckline of her shirt and her bra at the same time and pulled them outward, giving him a clear view of her naked breasts. Libby's face grew warm as he stood there gazing down her shirt but she held still while he sighed in appreciation. "Yes, they're just as beautiful as I remembered." Libby laughed nervously. Omar smiled, let go of her clothing and kissed the side of her neck. "We'd better get going. Mr. Maxwell doesn't like to be kept waiting." Libby adjusted her clothing, grabbed her purse and they walked out of her flat to his car. He opened the passenger door for her and closed it once she was settled in the car. Such a gentleman, thought Libby, as he walked around to the other side. He got in behind the wheel, gave her a smile, started the car and they took off. They arrived at the agency and Omar held Libby's hand as they walked into the office. Once inside, Libby suddenly got nervous. "Omar, I don't think I can do this." "Yes you can. Trust me" he said and kissed her on the cheek. Omar and Libby walked up to Jean's office. Jean looked up from her desk and the colour drained from of her face. "This is the actress you brought for Mr. Maxwell to see?" she asked incredulously. "Yes" replied Omar. Jean and Libby eyed each other then Jean spoke up. "Who is your agent?" Libby replied in a steady voice. "I don't have an agent." "A freelancer?" "No. Actually, I've never acted before in my life." Jean looked back to Omar. "Is this a joke, Omar?" "Oh, it's no joke. Libby would be perfect for the role. And I want Mr. Maxwell to see her. I'll take full responsibility if he doesn't like her." Jean contemplated both of them for a moment. Then she stood up and came out from behind her desk towards them. "Well, then, it's nine o'clock. Shall we go in?" Jean led them into the auditioning room. As per the day before, Mr. Maxwell and John Crowe were already set up and waiting for them. Omar took Libby right up to Mr. Maxwell and introduced her. "Mr. Maxwell, may I introduce to you Ms. Liberty Heath?" Mr. Maxwell stood up and extended his hand to Libby. "Liberty Heath, that has a nice ring to it. I like it." "Thank you" replied Libby. "Well, let me see your resumé." Mr. Maxwell waited expectantly. Libby gave Omar a bewildered look. Omar answered for her. "She doesn't' have one with her." Mr. Maxwell frowned. "Is this a waste of my time? I don't like to waste time. It irritates me." Omar continued. "I don't think it's a waste of anybody's time. I ask you to give her one reading. And if you don't like her, then we'll go and you can take it out of my salary or my hide, whatever's easier." Mr. Maxwell contemplated Omar. Then his gaze flicked over Libby. She was pretty, maybe a little bit tall, but then Omar was tall and looking at them side by side, they matched up well. Mr. Maxwell looked into Libby's eyes and was met with an unwavering stare. "Alright then, Jean, give them their sides and let's do this." Jean handed Omar and Libby their sides and Omar led Libby to the other end of the room. "So what do I do?" whispered Libby. "Just be yourself as you read these lines with me. Don't try to make it any more than it is. Be honest with it, almost like you were reading back to me something you wrote." Libby looked at the first few lines, then back to Omar. "I would never write crap like this." Omar smiled. "Don't worry about the content, just get behind the feeling of it and focus on me. And remember, this entire scene leads up to a kiss so make it look good." Libby drew a deep breath and smiled back at him. "Okay" she said. They both turned towards Mr. Maxwell. "Once again, state your names into the camera, give a 5 beat pause and then start the scene. Anytime you're ready, kids. John, start the camera rolling." John got behind the camera and focused in on Omar and Libby. Omar gave Libby a wink and she winked back. Then they started. As soon as Libby spoke, Mr. Maxwell sat up and his brows drew together in deep concentration. Libby read with confidence, keeping her focus on Omar as they read the scene, getting into it and letting the lines feed her emotions. Omar was amazed at the ability she had for giving and taking as they played the scene. He knew she had it in the bag and as they kissed at the end of the scene, he whispered into her ear "You were excellent". They finished and turned expectantly towards Mr. Maxwell. He sat there, studying the two of them for a moment before he spoke. "Well, Ms. Heath, I don't know what to say. Your voice is strong but not over-bearing, you exude confidence and charm and you obviously click with your male counter-part." Omar's heart skipped a beat as Mr. Maxwell paused. "You've got the job, young lady." Omar turned to hug Libby, picking her up and swinging her around. Mr. Maxwell spoke up. "Now for details. Who is your agent?" Libby was at a loss for words. "Well, I really don't have...." Jean interrupted her. "I'm her agent, Mr. Maxwell." The look in Jean's eyes dared Libby to go against what she said. "Good" he replied "I like keeping it in the family. Let's go into your office and discuss salaries. And you two, be packed and ready by Friday." "What happens Friday?" Libby asked. "You'll be on your way to Australia for a three-month shoot. Jean will have complete scripts for you by tomorrow." Mr. Maxwell walked out of the room. Jean stood up to follow, looked back at Libby and Omar, gave a small smile and followed him out. Omar grinned at Libby. "I knew you were right for the part." Libby laughed. "I wasn't sure I could do it. But it felt so right with you." Omar's smile faded as he gazed tenderly at her. "It does feel right, doesn't it?" He put his arm around her shoulders and guided her out of the office. Omar and Libby got into the car and turned to each other. "So" said Omar, "you have two jobs now - an acting job and a book-writing job. I don't think you'll have any worries for quite a while, do you?" "No. But I must say that the past twenty-four hours have been quite an upheaval in my life." "But a good upheaval" he said as he started the car. He pulled away from the office and sped down the street. "Let's grab a bite to eat before we go home." "Alright." Home? She thought curiously. That had a nice ring to it. Her brow furrowed as her thoughts continued. Everything about her and Omar seemed so right,. Except for one thing. And if she told him that one thing, she'd lose him for sure. She buried this thought deep within her, then turned to smile at Omar. They drove on for a while until they pulled up in front of a sidewalk bistro. "This is one of my favourite spots. It's cute, it's clean and they have great food." "Great" said Libby. Omar came around to her side of the car and helped her out, then escorted her to the small café. A waiter seated them at a window table and gave them their menus. Every once in a while they would glance at each other over their menus and smile. The waiter returned, took their order and menus and left them. Omar grabbed Libby's hands across the table and held them as he looked at her. Where their lips stayed silent, their eyes spoke volumes. Eventually, Libby broke the silence. "We'll have to get a paper today and see what is said about us." "Who cares what they say? Let's just leave it alone. I promise you it will all die down within a week and by then, we'll be gone. Besides, if anything really nasty is said about us, Jean will let us know. She keeps close tabs on things like this. Just let it go. You have anew life ahead of you now." Libby grinned. "You're right. Oh and, by the way, I never said thank you for getting me that acting job." "I didn't get it for you. You got it on your own. All I did was get you the audition. And you can thank me for that later." His eyes made his meaning clear as he lifted one of her hands to his full lips to brush it with a kiss. The waiter broke them from this moment by arriving with their food. They started eating and Libby found his judgement to once again be correct. The food was delicious. She gave him a mischievous glance and pulled her tape recorder out of her purse. "Time for another memory." "Now?" he asked. "Yes, now. I think the concentration level is better when we're out in a crowd, don't you?" she fluttered her eyes at him innocently. He gave her a lop-sided grin and thought for a moment. "Here's a memory that I think you'll find very interesting. For the book, that is."
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